


Let's go

by Fiction_is_happier



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 18:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6435502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiction_is_happier/pseuds/Fiction_is_happier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So she kept marching, her boots crunching on the fallen leaves at her feet. She focused on that. On the sound her worn boots made in the dirt.</p>
<p>Or, Octavia, after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's go

**Author's Note:**

> There might be some continuity errors but I'm not ready to re-watch that ep so I'm using some artistic license.

Every step felt like a dagger slicing into her heart. Helios brayed beside her but she couldn't bear to jump into the saddle. She needed to walk. She needed to walk on the same ground Lincoln's blood was still seeping into.

She could feel Kane glance at her, making sure she would fall or break into a million pieces and shatter into the wind lightly assaulting her face. He needn't worry. Octavia Blake was made of steel, not glass.

So she kept marching, her boots crunching on the fallen leaves at her feet. She focused on that. On the sound her worn boots made in the dirt. Marking the path they will make when she returns to slice Pike's head clean off.

She stopped suddenly, the group faltering at her hesitation. Like a skittish animal they feared she would flee into the brush and find respite under the canopy of trees and mildew.

"Octavia," Miller said softly, coming to stand before her. "Let's keep moving."

She couldn't move. She couldn't make her legs follow the commandments her brain was sending them. Her feet sunk into the dirt underfoot. Her sweaty palms clasped the dagger at her side. Her eyes bore into the white flower peeking out from the brush.

At first she foolishly thought it was a message. A whisper into her ear _'Come find me. It's safe.'_ But it wasn't. Lincoln hadn't the chance to hide such a symbol. He had been locked up - chained like an animal, powerless. She was so close. She almost had him. They were almost free.

Octavia swallowed hard and blinked. She wasn't shocked by how dry they were. Her tears had been dried up by the fire of revenge that consumed her the second the bullet exploded from Pike's gun. Crying could come later. Now she had a job to do.

The flower's petals dazzled in the morning sun, twinkling like a brand new star she had never gotten to see. It was grounded in the earth, like her mud caked boots, like her fingernails, like Lincoln.

This was her home now. Amongst the mud and fallen petals. Where Lincoln's blood had soaked the earth. This flower was part of her. Part of her home, her past, herself. Part of Lincoln. It still bloomed.

So will she.

"Let's go." She commanded and marched on, leading them away further away from the prison that had taken everything from her, just like Lincoln wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> un beta'd so excuse any errors (i couldn't see the keyboard through my tears)


End file.
